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like this, Robbie. Your Dad and me, we’ve decided…we’ve decided to try again – you know, being together like we were. Only not like we were. Better. Happier. We’ve made a mess of things, we know that, and we know how much that’s upset you, upset Ellie. It upset us, too. But that’s all over now.”
    They’re not going to switch me off! They’re not going to give up on me! I feel as if I’m swimming in deep warm water up towards the light, up towards the air.But I can’t reach the light. I can’t breathe the air. Dad’s holding one of my hands, Mum’s got the other. They’re trying to pull me up and out, trying to save me from drowning, willing me to break free. But something’s still holding me back.
    “Robbie, are you hearing this?” Dad this time. “It’s you that’s done this, Robbie, you and Lucky and all that’s happened to you. You made us stop and think. When I’ve been in here with you sometimes, I could really feel you wanting us all to be together again. And Mum says she’s felt just the same. So we’re going to try – for us, for you, for Ellie. We’re going to do our very best to make it work, Robbie. Only we want you with us. We want you to be here with us, Robbie, to come home.”
    Me too, Dad, me too.
    “Your Dad moved back home yesterday, Robbie,” Mum’s saying. “So far so good.” And they were both laughing like they used to do when Lucky did his party tricks, and I can hear they’re easy together again, and happy.
    So I should be happy too, shouldn’t I? Gianfranco Zola has been in to see me and he’s given me the shirt off his back – sort of. And Mum and Dad are back together. What more could I possibly want? I have this picture in my head of all of us out in the garden together, and Lucky’s rolling over and over and bowing to the queen, and standing up on his little hind legs and they’re all laughing and Ellie’s giggling her head off.
    But then I’m suddenly sad because I know Lucky is gone and will never comeback. It was Lucky that always made us all laugh. I remember how I was laughing myself silly when he went skittering off after that cat, before I noticed the front gate was open, before he went under the car.
    He had two black eyes like a panda, and a stubby little tail that never stopped wagging, and I loved him. We all did. He was our clown, our joker, and he was our best friend. Marty and everyone thought he was the coolest dog around, even when he came to the park and spoilt our football game, chasing after the ball, biting it, snarling at it. And when we shouted at him, he’d go running off all smiley and panting and tongue-hanging-happy. I should have put the lead on him. I should have remembered. He was dead and it was my fault.
    The house would be so quiet without Lucky. Who would bite the post when it came through the door? Who would go mad and chase his tail when the telephone rang? Who would dig up Mum’s flowers and send her potty? Even if I did wake up, things would never be the same without Lucky. I’m lying here with so many of my dreams come true, and yet so sad inside, as sad as I’ve ever been.
    “That shirt suits you,” says Dad. “Like Zola said, it really suits you. Wasn’t he the best, coming to see you like that? It’s been in all the papers, you know. Picture of him. Picture of you. I’ll keep them for you, for when you come home, all right?” They’re whispering together again. I can hear Mum crying and Dad’s holding her, trying to comfort her. I know he is.They’re going out and I wish they wouldn’t. I’m trying to call out to them to come back. But no sound comes out. The door’s squeaking and clunking. They’ve gone. And I’m alone. I hate being left alone. I hate it.
    Tracey comes in. She’s singing again. It’s her other song – Imagine. John Lennon. She’s a big John Lennon fan. So’s Dad. “Imagine all the people…” And she sings it all the way through really well. She could be a popstar,